91. White wolves
The battle had been raging for a while now and Connor was meeting fewer and fewer opponents. No wonder, knowing the size of the Grey Wolf pack. And that made sense given that many of their fighters had been killed during their forced marking failure at Purple Eyes.
The man narrowly dodged a clawed hand that slammed into him and delivered a rising slash with his sword that backhanded into a werewolf's throat. The sound of flesh scorched by the wolfsbane-soaked blade mingled with the sound of gurgling blood that swirled up the werewolf's throat and spilled out of its maw.
Connor's opponent slumped heavily to the ground and the agent walked toward the body, his hazel eyes utterly indifferent, to finish the job. He properly beheaded his opponent with a clean blow. A smirk was creeping on his face when a voice called out to him.
"I guess you think you're invincible."